Protests

We all launch protests from time to time. Sometimes directly and some times in a passive aggressive manner. Normally, I will take a protest for what it is. Some times it is merely a vent to let off steam. Other times it is for a cause one feels deeply and profound about. I understand this and respect another's right to protest whatever they feel like. After all, that is their right, it is my right to completely ignore it.

Unless their protest involves destruction of property not owned by them. Property that is mine. Property that is intended to be a gift. Something I have been pouring my heart into for luck and well being for the recipient.

Now, I should tell you that I am the only female in the company. So when things get to a certain point, I break and do strange things like clean the floors, dust and vacuum. The boys would gladly let the dirt pile up to their knees before thinking about shoveling out. Today was one of those days. I took out the trash, cleaned and picked up. And then I vacuumed.

VACUUMED.

The ultimate sin. There I was, at the end of the day. The foreman bee came in, and I turned off the vacuum to discuss the day's work. Then it happened. Work Cat launched a protest. It was so clearly aimed at my vacuuming. While sitting on my desk. She stares up at both of us making sure to catch our attention. We cease speaking noting a glint in her eye of pure malice. She very pointedly looks at the vacuum (now quite), looks back up at the 2 of us, staring back with some weird fascination and sensing impending doom. And then she did it.

She VERY deliberately pushed a full 22oz cup of coffee off my desk upside down into my bag, where a project that I am working on for a friend's baby shower (this weekend) is laying innocently. Not to mention EVERYTHING else in my purse/bag. She gave one last snort of disapproval at the vacuum, eyed us again, and then had the NERVE to climb into the Kitty Pi bed I made her.

We stood there, mouths agape. I looked at the other person and told him what that was in the bag. He remembered his son had a school thing and beat the hastiest retreat I've seen in a while. And all I can do was stare at the destruction from her protest.

The damage was done. Coffee was pouring out of my bag as I rushed it to the sink in the other room, a trail of coffee on the floor behind me. There would be no more vacuuming that day. The protest was clearly heard. So I will not vacuum unless Work Cat is outside. Even if it means I'm dumping her butt out there in 2 feet of snow!